


Frost that never thaws (Until it does)

by fangirly103 (orphan_account)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Civil War Team Iron Man, F/M, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Hurt Tony Stark, Internet Famous, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Protective Bucky Barnes, Secret Crush, Slow Burn, Texting, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Twitter, not team Cap friendly, winteriron
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:40:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24062245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/fangirly103
Summary: There was a lot Tony hadn't been expecting but a lot that he was.He expected the betrayal would come sooner or later but not the deep frosty hatred that came with it. Just like how he knew the words Natasha said were true (he'd heard them from the group previously) but it didn't prepare him for that pain.But what he definitely had not expected was a wrong number text from a seemingly depressed Bucky Barnes, nor the friendship and drama it would inevitably come with.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 15
Kudos: 167





	1. Chapter 1

Numb.

The steady pain he'd felt before ebbed away in waves, overcome with a blanket of blankness.

Tony fought for his eyes to stay open, for some semblance of family or love to be leftover, something, anything, to live for. He was grasping at the strands for any reason he should continue.

Peppers smile. But she had left him, couldn't continue with the anxiety and burden he brought.

Rhodey's eyes alight when Tony explained a new addition to the War Machine suit. But Tony had hurt him, indirectly, yet still, that guilt never tarnished the blank expanse of his mind.

Vision was hurt and Rhodey too. Natasha, Bruce, Thor, Pepper all left, ran from him like the plague, even when he needed them most and made that fact known, it was never enough. The others betrayed and outrighted hated him.

It hadn't been a recent occurrence. The sharp comments and what he thought was lightly pushing around. It never progressed from that, unless you count the cutting words and "jokes" that seared through his masks, never went further than when Clint brushed his shoulder a little too hard, or Maximoff altered his mind or Natasha went through his things for blackmail.

Yet, it didn't hurt any less.

This was his escape. 

Finally, the way out of the torture that his life brought.

So, with the cold actively freezing him, blood pumping at worrying temperatures, his heart decreasing in speed, he let his eyes close and welcomed the nothingness he'd yearned for.

He lied there in the deserted ruins of the room for hours. But no one came. Until they did.

He blinked. And suddenly he could see the world, harsh lighting glaring down at him and the figures of a sobbing Pepper Pots and nervous-looking Rhodey.

"... Tony...I'm sorry. Sorry that I left when you needed me. When I noticed their...behaviour and didn't say a thing. This is all fault and now you're going to hate me."

Tony immediately slapped his eyes shut, evening his breaths so he could eavesdrop on her speech.

"I know that you may never forgive me for this but it was the only way," Pepper sighed, turning her attention to gaze out of the futuristic windows of the tower. "So, if you don't forgive me...just know I did this because I love you, I'm not in love with you anymore, before we were together we were friends and just-well... I don't regret ending things, but I wished we'd been on better terms. This is goodbye in case you never want to speak to me again. So, I will this say this with all my heart. I love you Tony, goodbye." 

At the last few words, she pressed a warm kiss to his forehead, lingering there and caressing his cheek with her thumb before returning to crying quietly in her chair by the window.

Confusion gnawed at his mind but he pushed it away in favour of listening to Rhodey's speech.

"Tones... I can't even begin to say how guilty I feel for doing this but I-we couldn't bear to lose you. I know you'll wake up and be guilty for my legs so just know that it's not your fault. I regret this but, it was worth it in the end, for _you_." He could feel Rhodey's tears as he clutched at his arm, droplets of bitter pain falling hard and wet against his skin.

Pepper joined Rhodey, beside his bed, sobbing into his chest, and he couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Okay I'm sorry but that was a severe attack to my allergy of emotion talk. How rude of you," he snarked, lip curving upward but the smile never reaching his eyes.

Their head snapped up, shock evident in the familiar features of their faces before morphing into annoyance and followed by happiness. It was such a show that he almost laughed.

Almost.

Not almost because it wasn't hilarious ( which it was) but when he tried he felt a spiky jab of pain from his abdomen.

He hadn't noticed it before but when he looked, he could see at least 4 wires leading up to his chest where a gleaming arc reactor was embedded in his chest. Again. But that wasn't what bothered him, what did was the tube with needles in each of his arms and side.

In this corner of his eye, he noticed Pepper biting at her lip while shifting uncomfortably and Rhodey refusing to look at him, their telltale signs of shame and guilt.

Feeling dread pooling in the depths of his stomach, he eyes slowly stalked the wires which al connected to one tube. 

_Oh no._

After another few seconds, his eyes reached the table beside his bed where 7 empty injection needles sat, right next to another seven bags of a gold substance. _Extremis_ was printed neatly onto each bag and after coming to his rather terrifying conclusion, he promptly threw up.

It took an hour to get the vomit cleaned up. Both Pepper and Rhodey had left to shower, all the dirty bedding and clothes were thrown into a jumbo washer leaving Tony to sit there, vomit drying grossly on his shirt.

Felling unease, he lifted the shirt carefully of him and shifted to glare at the gold bags.

Maybe he could just "accidentally" get rid of them?

That thought was quickly chased away by the quite rational one of " If you don't complete the process you'll die". And though the idea of that hadn't sounded all too bad in Siberia, it sure as hell wasn't an option now.

Sighing heavily, he picked up the tablet that was sitting on the other bedside table and did what he did best.

Fix things.

"Fri?" He asked, voice nervous and almost a whisper.

"Boss?"

"Would you mind-no wait...Yeah, actually...get rid of their access," never in his life had he stuttered but, guess there really is a first time for everything.

"Already done, along with having their rooms cleared out, pictures combined and hidden in an inaccessible folder and stuff being relocated to storage."

"That's my girl,"

"I'm always your girl,"

"Don't sass, let me have my moment," It came out more of a request than snark but at this point, he didn't care. Barnes or not, this was going to happen eventually, may as well not cry about it, not that his tear ducts knew that.

Just as he unlocked his tablet, the doors slid open to reveal a slightly pissed Rhodey.

"No working" his voice was stern and Tony couldn't help but whine in his response

"But why?"

The only answer he got was one of those "Tony stop it your hurting yourself" looks, so he huffed and put the tablet in the duffel bag next to his bed.

"God, I missed you," Rhodey seems to collapse on himself with his words, sadness etched into his eyes and lips pressed in a thin line.

"It's only been a day, chill out Platypus," his attempts at banter were unnoticed or ignored

"That's the thing Tones. It hasn't been a day, It's be-its been two months." Rhodey choked up and eagerly accepted the hug from a shocked but not surprised Tony Stark.

"Good, I was beginning to think I didn't hide my research nearly as good as I should,"

Rhodey pulled away a bit to send him a glare.

"Ooh, too soon?"

Rhodey whacked him upside the head, laughter erupting from both and from there the conversation reverted into the day of the past, inside jokes and teasing with a heavy dose of banter.

They were interrupted a little while later by Doctor Cho entering the room holding a clipboard.

"I'm here with your Extremis program-"

"Wow, this sounds like your delivering a dieting subscription." Helen sent him a withering look. "Sorry, force of habit, I swear I'm really sorry, I didn't mean, I shouldn't speak,"

The sad expression and quiet disturbing apologies didn't go unnoticed by the two.

"Tones...you alright?"

"Always," he replied automatically, even more, miserable from looking Rhodey in the eye and straight-up lying.

"Well, Mr S- Tony. We finished the injections today. And every week you need to come for a check-up in the cradle seeing as, even with extremis, your still lacking parts of your ribcage and sternum,"

Tony was fine with this, rather expecting this when it first became known to him. He swallowed down a gulp of worry as he asked what he wanted to know.

"W-what..um...does i-it-" Thankfully Helen understood and brought him out of his misery.

"What does it enhance and extra abilities?" Tony nods silently, thankful for the fact Helen's soft eyes refuse to watch him gulp or fret, and the fact she knew him well enough to know he was perfectly fine being a baseline human and had a slight...aversion to some enhanced.

"If I'm perfectly honest? I'm not one hundred per cent sure," Tony visibly deflated and Rhodey rubbed a comforting hand on his shoulder, "But, we do know that it will come with a significant change in your healing speed, as well as enhanced senses, speed, strength and even metabolism. Based on it's previous...nature, we know that it will most likely have some abilities since it rewrites DNA. If you so wish, you could look at the code of this particular version to figure it out, trial and error is an option too..."

She trailed off noticing the now crying Tony Stark who barely noticed the salty tears pooling and spilling out of his eyes.

The only reason they could hear his heartbreaking whisper and broken eyes was the proximity in which they sat. Close but not too much so.

"I'm just like them..." 

He flicks his arm in rage and all the lightbulbs short out leaving the room in utter darkness.

"What-what have you done to me..." Outright sobs could be heard now as he frantically darted from the room, electronics and objects alike exploding as he passed them. Putting his new speed to use, he sprinted up to the penthouse within two minutes and barely out of breath. 

When he finally reached his room he did something he hadn't done in a long time. Crawled into his closet and sat staring at the wall letting the pain claw at him from inside. It was something he'd only do after Howard would slap him, or his parents' death and one other time. When a frosty super soldier was pulled from the Antarctic not too long ago.

**Wakanda**

He blinked. Waking up in a similar fashion to the man waking up at the other side of the earth, unbeknownst to him.

He felt warm breath above his face and gently pushed the blurry figure aside, rubbing at his eyes for better clarity.

Even without the absolute desolation of cryo, he could still feel the cold, that never left his insides, keeping him frozen in a whirlwind of hurt. 

"Bucky!" His eyes now clear, he sees Steve was the person who was leaning, borderline creepily, over him.

"Hey Steve," he tries for a chuckle when Steve's arms encase him but the sound was forced, not like Steve particularly noticed."Missed me?"

"Of course! So much is different now, but we can go visit Brooklyn eventually. And we can go get those sweets I always got you when we'd been separated for a while!" Steve's smile was wide and excited and Bucky couldn't bring himself to ruin it. No matter how much he hated those sweets. Could barely remember Brooklyn and didn't want to force his brain into remembering.

So he lies.

"Sure Stevie,"

"Great Buck, come on, let's go,"

"Shouldn't we check with the doctors and people?" He still asks the question no matter the answer he knows he will get.

"You shouldn't trust them, Buck. People in authority are never worth that."

There were so many things wrong with that statement, but above all, he hated the use of the Nickname. He didn't feel anything from it like he used too. Only patches of memories came with it, so without thinking he clenched his teeth and spoke.

"My name is James,"

Steve just looked at him sadly and placed a slightly patronising hand on his shoulder.

"No Bucky. Bucky is your name, remember? You are Bucky Barnes. Don't let HYDRA control who you are, come on let's go,"

James was beyond scared at the display of Steve's ignorance and delusion, but nevertheless, stored the info in his mind and followed after him.

The day didn't get better, in fact, Steve's surety of James and obsession over the old days was concerning, very concerning. As he got into bed at night, not for one minute thinking he would sleep with Maximoff around, he silently wished he'd never bought those stupid plums.

The night was filled with tossing and turning, he never closed his eyes for a second not wanted to show vulnerability or witness his time at HYDRA again.

When the morning finally arrived, a weird knock on his door tugged him out of his spiralling thoughts of his mistakes and failures.

"Who is it?" 

"It's Steve, Bucky it's me," Steve pushed open the door and perched next to Bucky on the bed, yet again, he landed a placating hand on his soldier and creased his eyebrows in disdain "You know that knock Buck. It was your favourite tune back in the old days. I always used to knock your door like that. You love that sound and you love when I knock the sound on the door."

"Steve, I don't even know what you're talking about,"

Steve smiled despite the confusion on Bucky's face.

"I got you something, T'challa asked me to give it to you and I took the liberty of downloading all your favourite books and songs on it."

Steve hands him a Pym Tech phone along with earphones, a box of plain cases and a charger.

"You didn't have to do that, at all," It was becoming quite annoying really, the way Steve was so insistent on forcing his memories back.

"I'll leave you to figure out how to use it,"

Bucky smiles at Steve as he leaves but quickly becomes stoic again and buried the phone into the drawers, not willing to use it at the moment.

After waiting 20 minutes, he ventures out of his room and to the shared kitchen in silent, instead choosing to slink in the shadows as he made breakfast and listened to the conversation.

"...And then Stark just smiled cruelly! Like my broken bow was funny when the bastard made it. He's honestly an absolute madman," Clint growled, flipping through his phone.

"He deserves to die! He killed my brother, my parents and tried to imprison me! He should not deserve to be in America, running around perfectly fine and pleased with himself!" Wanda snarls, magic alight and lips in a disturbing smirk.

"Exactly!"

For a second he lets his eyes shift over to the bin, which was almost overflowing from the Stark Tech inside.

"Steve, your opinion?" Wanda asks, feigning childhood innocence as she looking at him.

"He got what was coming to him, he is an entitled brat who deserves nothing. All he does is destroy everything in his path cause he's too busy caring about himself,"

"Not to mention that ego, honestly it's higher than his tower," the Black Widow pipes up from her seat on the couch.

Bucky left the room with his yoghurt, and toast, eager to get away from the insults against Stark blaring in his ears.

"He can't really be that bad?" he wondered to himself.

It was the conflicting opinions of Stark from the Rogues and T'Challa that sparked an interest to the seemingly spoiled brat or genius superhero. He wanted his own opinion, and he was not going to 'confirm' with Rogers who would just attempt to placate him, causing him to spiral further into the hellhole of his emotions.

At his fifth hangout with Shuri, who had grown fondly annoyed of his venting of the Rogues, had given him a phone number, refusing to tell him who it belonged to.

She didn't really need to. He already had a sneaking suspicion he knew.

Fingers shaking and nervousness building up, he typed the two lettered word that would start it all.

**Hi**

.


	2. I don't know anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony is brought out of his moping by a ping his phone makes in the back of his mind. He doesn't pick it up, only wills for the text message to appear in his eyes only.  
> It was an untraceable number, with only two letters in the short text.  
> Hi.  
> Instantly his blood runs cold, not like it wasn't already, these days the cold never leaves, intent on keeping him stuck in an icy haze of mourning the family he used to have.  
> And he fixes things, builds himself a new family but the text pauses, and everything in his world stills at the next message.

**Hi**

The phone beside him lit up with a soft blue glow, casting shadows that danced around his face. With a hint of a frown, he picked it up, curiosity winning over his 'sulking' as Peter tended to call it.

There's something deep and unsettling in the fact that the number is untraceable. Though it does nothing to help his curiosity, only making his eyebrows crease in frustration but still, he unlocked the phone onto the chat box, watching intently for any signs of hacking.

But there was none. Only the small message and the intermittently disappearing bubble with three dots.

Deciding that the person was probably having trouble, he takes it upon himself to respond.

_Hey_

_Who are you?_

Short and sweet, exactly what he wanted. His finger hovers over the send button but before he could press it the phone buzzed quietly and a second message popped up.

**I'm sorry Stark. I'll never be able to say it enough. I know my word means nothing to you, after all, we don't really know each other, do we? I wish I could take it back, my choice or not. I know no amount of sorry's will bring them back, bring any of them back and I'm not asking for anything in return except relief from the nightmare that is the avengers quarters. I don't have to apologise for Steve but I will. I don't expect a response or forgiveness, and I know this doesn't change anything.**

**JBB**

Well, that solved that mystery.

Stark drowned in thought. He had long since forgiven Barnes, it may have been his hands that were coated in red, but it wasn't him in there, it was never fair to blame him. Whilst the hurt may have faded for Tony, the other betrayals were as fresh as the day they transpired.

He wasn't feeling particularly bad today, but this was as good as it'll get.

At least, for now.

_It's ok. I forgave you a long time ago. Its surprising how much clarity you get while in surgery, figured there was no point holding a grudge for an innocent man._

This time the response came much quicker.

**Hardly an innocent man.**

_Not the only one._

**Life is just not great sometimes.**

_Understatement of the century_.

To say he was shocked at how close the conversation had been too friendly would be accurate. He was in his closet again. Phone light illuminating the darkness and keeping the panic attacks at bay. Mouth slightly agape and eyes blown wide, he tried not to go into shock seeing as his...abilities were still rather temperamental when it came to his emotions. And unlike Maximoff, which Rhodey had drilled into his head, he didn't let the emotions get the best of him on purpose, with an intent to harm.

With an unusual amount of courage, he typed another text out hoping for a response.

So, How is Wakanda?

While it seems like a simple question, both knew it had deeper meaning because while he was tactless, Tony knew exactly how to ask indirect questions

**Nice. People are great too.**

_But not them?_

**All they do is talk trash about you**

_You mean bullshit_

**I guess so. That's funny.**

_Remind me to teach you what 'lol' is_

**Later?**

_Later._

It was a silent promise from the slightly tense but otherwise fine beginnings of a friendship. And with that revelation, Tony let his lips curve up in the ghost of a smile. He shuffled over to the door, and gently pushed them open, tumbling onto the floor in a rather unflattering manner.

"Ow," yelped Stephen Strange who had been leaning down to open the doors before Tony landed on his feet.

"Sorry," he groaned, not without a single ounce of apology in his sass "I'm assuming you're here for a reason..."

"Yes dumbass, I'm here to teach you magic," Stephen rolled his eyes but extended a hand to pull Stark up.

"Uhh no. No offence Dumbledore but what could you actually teach me?" The reference was not lost on Strange who ploughed on without a second thought.

Stephen rolled his eyes “A lot, douchebag” he responds absently, too busy staring at the blankness of Tony's room "Don't you ever decorate, it's so boring in here,"

Stark looked hurt but deflected "If you done insulting me Potter, let’s go,”

The walk was silent, tension and questions hanging unanswered in the air, which is why the silence quickly reached unbelievable amounts of awkwardness.

"So, who are you?" Tony is the first to speak, hating the lack of sound.

"Doctor Strange," came the curt reply and a small mutter carried through the air to Stephen, 'Strange is right'. Expecting that response, he hastily brushed it off and the rest of the journey wasn’t quite as silent as the first part.

“What razor do you use?” Strange ground out, blatantly refusing to look at Stark.

“Gillette, why?”

“Your-ahem-goatee is nice,”

“It’s all in the flick of the wrist, yours isn’t so bad yourself,” The pair were now only a few metres away from the doors but the feet were planted in the ground as they examined each other’s facial hair thoroughly. As if something had just dawned on him, Tony’s eyes lit up like a flame and his mouth curved into a familiar smirk.

“Facial Hair Bros?” It was accompanied by a fist bump between the new friends, both wearing cheeky grins.

“Definitely,”

Strange yanked the door open, strutting through with his cape billowing behind him. Unfortunately for Tony, the door slammed in his face and he was left with an angry bruise, sour expression and a strenuous magic lesson to attend.

Most of the conversation was filled with unencouraging shouts of ‘stop slacking Stark’ and playful glares from the two. Although Stephen did seem to earn more angry ‘looks’ from his peals of laughter when Stark ended up on the floor, surrounding by broken lightbulbs and ash coating his mussed hair.

“Can we take a break? I feel like your slipping Strange,” Stark groaned, creating an intricate barrier to squash the magic.

As soon as it began to waver, Strange flipped his wrists and thrust them forward, once again, ending with Stark on his butt.

“Am I? maybe I should do that again.” He retorted.

“Nope, no, nada, no-way,”

“Five minutes!”

“Fifteen”

“Five!”

“Fifteen”

“Ten?”

“Sounds good,” Stark finished, disrupting their argument and instead, spinning on his heel to grab his water bottle.

Bzz Bzz

As he was downing his last few droplets in one big gulp, he fished his phone out of his pocket, to reveal another message from Barnes.

**Honestly, it’s like their obsessed with you or something**

_What lovely descriptive words did they use?_

**Self-obsessed pig who can’t deal with others getting the glory.**

_Well that’s a new one._

**Is it though?**

_Hell no._

The remnants of that smile from earlier danced across his face, so he faced away from the wizard who wasn’t really paying him any mind. Before he even knew it, his fingers were tapping out a question his guilt refused to allow him to ignore.

_~~How is you shoulder?~~ _

__

_~~Did you get a new arm?~~ _

__

_~~Can I make you a new arm?~~ _

He wanted to yell in frustration, but settled on a hopefully snarky asking of:

_Did ya get a new arm? The old one was kind of spectacularly violent._

**No but don’t feel bad it only feels like my finger is being cut off every ten minutes.**

Bile and shame threatened to spill out of his throat while he reread that text countless times. Somewhere in the back of his mind he thought that Barnes had probably been tormented in pains worse than that, but (quite obviously) that did nothing to heed his guilt. Thankfully, another message popper up, and only partially brought him out of his misery.

**Don’t feel bad. I have a high pain tolerance.**

_Can you read minds?_

**Seriously Stark.**

Tony pouted, tapping his finger against his knee tunefully, quite aware of the curious eyes of Strange locked onto his figure. Scrambling through his brain for responses, he sent a glare towards Stephen, before humming along the tune to his tapping. He always was known for his multitasking and humming. But the humming had stopped a while ago, Steve had become agitated in time and snapped at him. Before he knew it, he was freezing up as his mind was dragged unceremoniously back in time.

_“Bum. Ta. Bu bu bum. Ta. ba bu bum. Ba da da da da da. Ta. Bum. Ta bum bum bum. Ta bu bum aum. Bu bam bu bam bu bam. Ba la la bum.” Tony’s quiet humming filled the incessant silence f the workshop, Steve always complained about it ‘subtly’ when he was down here._

_Steve grunted from his place on the sofa, reading what was most likely a mission report on his Starkpad. Tony was stood halfway across the room, tapping the table time with his humming, as he solved his equations._

_“Problem, Cap?”_

_Steve just gave him a look and continued to tap away at his tablet, refusing to subject to Starks ‘ways’._

_“I would appreciate it if you would stop your…sounds.”_

_“It’s called humming, grandpa,” Stark said, smirks on the outside, pain on the inside. Steve didn’t like his humming? At least he’d never sung in front of him, that would be embarrassing. No one seemed to like any of his little quirks._

_Singing? Howard had quickly stopped that little habit with a few sharp smacks, although his mother had been pained, he stopped singing, he found it was better she didn’t know about that day. Each time he let a sound out that sounded remotely like singing, his father would whack it out of him._

_“It is better this way” he would convince even if it didn’t work._

_And so, he’d taken up humming, a cute little way of continuing the long-gone hobby of his. For Steve to not like it? It hurt. Because his father had been right, Steve wouldn’t like his habits too._

_“Well stop Stark,”_

_It was deadly silent after that until Tony began working on the suit, whenever he worked on it, he couldn’t help but hum, and bob his head to the songs of his childhood. Little hums began escaping his mouth, the notes of song begging to be released._

_“Shut the hell up Stark! I told you to be quiet! Why the hell can you never listen to your captain?!” Steve had taken a step forward with each cutting word, succeeding in backing Tony into the corner. Tony took a futile attempt to escape, ducking under his arm, but Steve’s large hand wrapped around his wrist in an iron grip._

_Tony was fully panicking now but somehow concealing it under a wavering smirk. Looming over Tony’s face threateningly he whispered the words that were carved into his mind forever._

_“It’s your job to listen to me Stark. I’m your captain, and you are inferior.” Slowly the grip around his wrist faded, and it took all of his willpower not to look down at the inevitable bruising._

_“Got it,” he muttered, gaze glaring straight at the marble floor, tears almost spilling over the edge._

_“You got to listen Tones,” Steve’s tone turned honey sweet, fakely so and he pulled Tony into a tight hug, nails digging into Tony’s back._

He remembered the blue and red swirls covering his wrist, the indents with tiny droplets of blood dripping out on his back.

He didn’t even know he was shaking, or lying on the floor, the memories whipping him into a state he hated; being weak. His body thrummed with silent sobs, ripping through him, and bringing pain to the scars he’d cut into his skin after every meeting like that one.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see and feel Strange’s concerned gaze followed by the infamous question he was sick of hearing.

“Are you okay?”

“No! Do I look okay to you? Do I? Of course, I’m not fucking okay! I never will be! A

nd you’ll never understand so don’t you dare ‘are you okay’ me. It hurts so much, and no one notices. So, go the fuck away from me and take all your shitty repetitive questions with you! You are just going to turn out like the rest of them, dead, hurt or hating me, or maybe all three, just get away from me!”

Realising Strange was awaiting a response (because he would never say what he had just thought aloud) he almost sighed with his response. Oh the countless plethora of times he’d said variations of this.

“I’m fine,”

He let out a breath and spun around walking towards the sparkling sliding doors.

“I think that’s enough for today,”

_BZZ._

He tugged his phone out of his pocket and almost screamed.

**Stark, you okay?**

_I’m fine._

**Are you?**

_~~No~~ _

_~~Help me~~ _

Instead of the reply he so yearned to say he gave up, sick of the fake smiles and smirks, the chuckles and scars.

_No._

_But fake it till you make it right?_

**Wrong.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thanks for reading Chapter 2! Any ideas for specific conversations between Bucky and Tony?  
> In case you didn't know;
> 
> Bold texts: Bucky  
> Italic texts: Tony  
>  See you on Friday!


	3. Note

Hi Guys! 

I just wanted to let you know I really appreciate you support for this story and the lovely comments you have left for it. I have decided to rewrite this story after reviewing it and learning some new writing tricks. It will still follow the same plot and have mostly the same content, I would just like to rewrite it better, as I don't have a beta reader. Thank you again so much! Please subscribe to my account so you'll be notified when the rewrite of this goes up.

Another thing: I'm really sorry for not having updated this in a while, I got a bit stuck so that's another reason for the rewrite as I have mostly planned out how the rest of the plot is going to go.

**Author's Note:**

> When I publish this story I will most likely have already written at least 10 chapters so that I'm prepared to keep weekly loads which I occasionally fail at to do.  
> I will start with two uploads a week-Friday and Tuesday.
> 
> (I don't own Marvel or anything in it)  
> It would be great if you left feedback and ideas for the story or just fluffy fillers?
> 
> See you on Tuesday!


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